Ahem.

To elaborate on the List of Things That Can Go Suck It.

1. The cashier at Wegman's. Please don't give me false hope by saying "Are you sure they got the date right?" when I tell you that I have three weeks left. It makes me discouraged. Don't you know I already nearly cried like 4 times in past hour? Due in part to...

2. The 90 frajillion old people that gave me dirty looks in the grocery store. Yes, I know my toddler is screaming. Yes, I am trying to quiet her down. Yes, that means that I am in the process of opening a box of animal crackers that I have not yet actually purchased. I am going as fast as I can, she has already eaten through a slice of ham, a pita pocket, a bottle of water, and 2 bites of summer squash (which was actually an accident. I didn't realize she was eating that. I put it in the cart and turned to look at something else and when I looked back she was saying "Nana! Nana!" and happily chomping away. In her defense, it does look very much like a banana. Although she shouldn't be eating a banana with the peel still on, but hey. Which brings me to item 3 on my List of Things That Can Go Suck It).

3. The carts at Wegmans. Okay, I think it's totally cool that you put space for two children to be buckled into the cart. I also like the fact that you have a parking garage so that I don't have to go out into the rain. And if I was shopping alone I'm sure I would like this feature of a multi-level cart. However, I DO NOT like that idea when shopping with a toddler. It really limits the amount of groceries I can put in that cart, because that top level (which, when shopping alone, I'm sure is perfect for those eggs or bread that you inevitably pick up first and then squash underneath all your canned goods) is TOTALLY reachable by the toddler buckled into the cart, rendering that entire level unusable. Well, I mean, you can use it. But said toddler may end up eating some summer squash.

That's it for now. And lest I include only my bitter diatribes about how ridiculously irritable I am today, I will also include the fact that I had my 37-week checkup with the doctor today. I've gained another pound since last week (putting the total gain at 28. Dammit. This child better come in the next 2 weeks, I'd really like to keep the gain at under 30.), but my blood pressure is great, baby is measuring exactly the right size, has a nice strong heartbeat, and is head-down. It's all a matter of waiting.

Things That Most Certainly Do Not Suck and Will Get Me Through Today

1. My half-caf, double tall, 2 pump, nonfat, no whip, Cinnamon Dolce Latte. Yes, I am one of those people. Deal with it.

2. My lovely husband who takes the baby to work with him while I go to my doctor appointments. I mean, come on. How awesome is that?

3. New friends who call me out of the blue because they're "on the way to the grocery store and thought of you and how we both hate grocery shopping with a passion!" and then proceed to talk about the evils of the grocery store and the likelihood that we will inadvertently teach our children all the best cuss words. (Note to self: probably should stop saying things like "Honey, you really need to calm down and be a good girl or Mama is seriously going to lose her shit." in the middle of the grocery store, within hearing distance of glary-type old person. Might also help cut down on the glares from old people.)

4. The knowledge that by the end of this afternoon my kitchen is going to be amazingly clean and organized. I have SUCH a big plan, you don't even know. It involves making lists and then pulling things out of cabinets, and I just might have plans to take an actual written inventory of what foodstuffs I have and then create schematics for how it should all fit into the cabinets/fridge/freezer. Yes. I am that obsessive. I did it when I worked at Starbucks and it did wonders for ease of ordering and use of products on hand. I see no reason why my kitchen should not operate in the same way.

Peace out, y'all.

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So close and yet so. Damn. Far.

Tomorrow I'll hit the 37-week mark on this pregnancy. I don't know how in the hell I am going to make it. I'm definitely done with the whole being pregnant thing, but then I remember that to not be pregnant anymore means to have to care for a toddler AND an infant. Annnnnnd then I'm okay with still being pregnant.

Now, I will regale you with Some Things That Have Bothered Me Recently.

1. I DO NOT want to hear about "how HUGE I am getting" or that I "look like I'm about to pop". Trust me. I feel enormous enough without your reminding me every. single. damn. morning. when I get to work. Please remember that when I get to your house to watch your daughter, it is 7am and I probably woke up approximately 6 minutes prior to seeing you. I am most definitely still in my pajamas, have barely contained my bedhead, and may or may not have brushed my teeth. I am probably still half-asleep, and that's alright because your daughter does not wake up for another hour, during which I will have time to mainline a cup of coffee. And yes, I am still drinking caffeinated coffee while pregnant. Sue me. But so help me god, if you tell me ONE MORE TIME that I'm "moving so slowly these days" or that I "look like a woman on a mission to just have this baby now" I swear I will flip the eff out.

2. Okay. So maybe I'm not the biggest pregnant woman you've ever seen. In fact, I'm fairly certain I'm not. But let me assure you that this is the biggest that I, personally, have ever been. So I would like to reserve the right to complain without you telling me how you had it so much worse. Commiserate, yes please, by all means. But seriously, unless you're hugely pregnant RIGHT NOW, I feel worse at this particular moment in time, so please give me my turn to be the whiny little snot.

2a. I would also like to give a shout out to all the women that have told me that I "look so cute" and tell me that I'm lucky cause I "only got a belly!" and that my stomach "looks like one of those fake pregnancy bellies on tv!". Please feel free to continue such comments, as long as you allow me to thank you and then continue to bitch about how huge I feel.

3. Pelvic pain can go suck it. Same goes for back pain.

4. Uhhh, that's actually pretty much it for today. That's all that's bothering me.

Things are actually going along just fine. Babygirl continues to be ridiculously cute, which very nearly makes up for the crankiness in the afternoon when all I want to do is sit on the couch with a heating pad on my back. I am slowly slowly making my way through the to-do-before-baby-gets-here list I have. Which isn't actually written out in list form, and so makes things sort of difficult. Problem is, every time I get out a pen and a notepad, it is stolen by a 17-month-old and as a result there may be pen marks all over our couch...

37-week doctor visit tomorrow. Expect a full report.

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Down but not out

Sunday morning we got up on time. We got out of bed on time. We happily started getting ready for church, hoping hoping HOPING to actually make it on time for once. I dressed the baby, picked out a cute sundress with leggings for myself, then decided that it was a little too chilly for the sundress alone, so I bent down to grab a sweater (out of the ridiculously out of control pile of clean/semi-clean clothes on the bedroom floor) and bam. Shooting horrific pain exploding all over my entire, but especially lower, back. It dropped me to my knees, and I nearly burst into tears as I called Nate to "come help me, quick! My back went out!"

And so, we didn't make it to church at all. Nate managed to somehow cart my pregnant ass over to the bed and get me all situated. I'm not gonna lie, I was in some serious pain any time I tried to move any muscle at all... so I spent Sunday in bed. Monday I felt a bit better, but still needed to take it easy, so my amazing husband took the day off from work so that he could take care of Fi and I could stay in bed another day. (He did offer by saying he would "do all the maid work, like cleaning the kitchen and putting away the laundry and taking care of the baby", which made me ask if he had just called me a maid, and he quickly backpedaled and tried to pull his foot out of his mouth real quick... but it was all good.)

Now here it is Wednesday, I'm feeling much better, but by the mid-afternoon my back is still pretty much done. Had a slight pregnant freak-out moment this afternoon... concerning what one of my favorite bloggers has termed the "pregnancy fluids of mystery." After a google-induced worry-fest of an afternoon, Nate convinced me to give my doctor a call. I did, and they had me come on in, and turns out that no, I was not in fact leaking any amniotic fluid. It's totally normal to be just that gross. The doctor nicely lied to me and told me they'd always rather I come and have it be nothing than the other way around, and no, I wasn't "that patient" just because of this and because I called the doctor on call over the weekend asking if maybe there was more I could do for my back than tylenol and rest?

Anyways. Everything continues to look fine, baby-wise, and I still have to go in for my regular visit next week. I'm officially 36 weeks today, so at this point any time I go into labor is fine, but ugh. You know it's gonna be a najillion years till that happens.

The child will. not. get. out. of. my. ribcage. Also, is causing horrific amounts of heartburn that no amount of Tums will cure. We had big plans to make real dinner tonight, (on the grill, even!) but as usual, all I feel like I can handle eating is a bowl of cereal. So once again, Nate's doing dinner for himself and the chickie. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel up to eating.

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35 Weeks

It. Is. Hot.

In April. It is nearly 90 degrees, for the third day in a row now! I am miserable with summer heat combined with spring allergies and of course all the fun stuff that come with the whole being pregnant thing... ugh.

Okay. I will try to stop complaining. We're supposed to have some serious rain tomorrow, and that should help with both the allergies and the heat, so I'm looking forward to that.

Had my 35-week checkup today. Everything continues to progress nicely, there's really nothing to report. Heartbeats good, baby is measuring right on the money, I've gained a pound since my last visit, which puts me up to 26 lbs. I'm reallllllly hoping to keep it to 30 lbs total, but we'll see if that works. I think it will just come down to how long I go. They gave me the "here's when to call us and when to go to the hospital blah blah and we won't stop your labor once you hit 36 weeks" paper today at my appointment. So we've got one more week to go, and then baby is welcome to come at ANY POINT. Although, I have no expectations of seeing him/her this month. I think we all remember Miss Fiona and her "I think I'd like to be a week and a half late" attitude. I'm prepared to endure another 5 full weeks of the heartburn and the Braxton-Hicks contractions and the kicks to the lungs and the existing on ice cream and breakfast cereal. Because yes, once again this pregnancy all I want to eat is cereal and ice cream. Somehow it's not working quite as well on the weight control this time though... though that probably has more to do with the fact that I haven't been exercising nearly as much. Last time I was walking for at least an hour, 3 or 4 times a week... this time I'm lucky to get out once a week. Eh. Maybe if I step it up here at the end it will still give me some of the benefits at the end of pregnancy. And since the weather is supposed to cool down and be ACTUALLY SPRING next week, maybe I'll actually be able to get out there.

Well, Finn is currently napping, so I'm gonna end here and try to grab a little sleep myself. If I don't I will be mucho cranky by this afternoon's end.

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Just like her Mama

Well, we've hit another milestone today. Fiona made a boy cry. I'm not entirely sure what happened, they were kind of like riiiiiight out of my line of vision, over to the side of the chair I was sitting on. But, yeah. We went to a new playgroup today, one we hadn't been to and didn't know anyone, so as usual it was kind of awkward at first. The other mothers were nice enough, the kids were all right around Fiona's age (which meant nobody really wanted to play with anyone else, they all just kind of played in the same general area), and we were having a pretty good time what with the goldfish crackers and the coffee. (It doesn't take much to make Fi and I happy, obviously)

Anyways. The incident. It may have actually been nothing, maybe she bumped into the kid, maybe she grabbed, maybe she tried to "share". All I know is that by the time I turned around, his snack cup was on the ground, amidst a small pile of goldfish crackers that Fiona was promptly hoovering up for us. She's good like that. This kid looks at her, and just dissolved into tears. He didn't seem like a particularly whiny kid up to that point, which is why I'd put money on her grabbing those fishies away from him like the little pint-sized bully she apparently is. I wasn't quite sure how to handle it, though. We removed the fishies from the situation, and the little boy's mother came over and was just like "looks like somebody's getting tired" and picked him up, it was really a non-event. But I kinda felt bad. I mean, she's small, and from experience I know that you've got to have a certain level of toughness to combat that, but I don't want her picking on boys when she's in the fourth grade, stepping on their feet or elbowing them when they're behind her in line, thus making them cry and calling them crybaby in front of everyone, or hitting them in the face with a windup Ghostbusters toy when they sit behind her on the school bus (repeat crying and namecalling). Not that I did anything like that when I was little. Poor kid. He really was a crybaby, but he probably just had a crush on me, and I used to torment the living crap out of him.

But I digress.

So, we've had our first bullying incident. I'm hoping that the next time something like this happens, I'll actually see it and be able to better gauge the seriousness of the situation, and deal with it appropriately. Cause she's gonna have to learn to be nicer. I don't want her biting the baby. Again, not that I did that to my sister or anything...

Today after playgroup we got home for naptime annnnnnnnd.... no nap. So I got her up from her crib, and we ate lunch and played and sang and danced and played and read stories and I though for SURE she'll sleep now annnnnnnd she slept for like 45 minutes. Which is not nearly enough. So tonight was a cranky evening for us here at the LaMartina household, even more so once Nate called and said he was gonna have to stay at work a bit later than normal...

But I still somehow managed to get dinner on the table! Cause I made one of the recipes out of my new crockpot cookbook! And since dinner was already halfway made by 1pm, it made it much easier to just throw together some mashed potatoes and microwave some carrots once Nate did get home. So, we had a delicious homecooked meal for the second night in a row. That's right, y'all. I cooked last night, too. Shake-n-bake chicken and oven roasted potatoes and broccoli. AND made banana muffins for this morning's playgroup. With whole wheat flour, none the less! Look at me go.

Now babygirl is sleeping, and the boys are downstairs having a beer/halo/microwave pizza/"forget we are husbands and fathers and kick back like we're in college type" of evening. I've been banished to the upstairs lest I break that fantasy, but it's all good. I've got my cup of tea, I've got my little stack of shortbread cookies, I've got my book. I'm gonna chill out and then go to bed early. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about that.

edited to add: My cup of tea got cold as I typed up this post. So I went downstairs to throw it in the microwave and ran back upstairs to take out contacts/wash my face/change into pajamas while the tea heated up again. I hear a knock on the bathroom door, it's the hubs. He saw me put the tea in the microwave and walk back upstairs, and, since he knows my tendency to forget about it and leave it in there until it's cold again (gah, yes Mom, I do that too now, sorry for making fun of you all those years), he brought it upstairs to me. So even on his guy's night in he's looking out for and taking care of me. Love that man.

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Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig!

It's the 17th of March! One of my favorite days of the year! It's St. Patrick's Day!

Talked to my sister in Ireland this morning. It was awesome and I told her that I basically hate her. Well, not really. Really I'm just crazy jealous. I told her I'm thinking of maybe making Shepherd's Pie for dinner, and she said "Sounds good. Irishy. I think we're having ribs, but really whatever we eat is Irish, so it works." Bitch.

Kidding, Kels! Love you!

You know, once I quit a job because they wouldn't give me St. Patrick's day weekend off. I had already planned a trip back home to Boston to watch the parade and I had tickets to see the Dropkick Murphys! It was planned BEFORE I took that stinkin' job at that stinkin' pub! Who woulda thought that an Irish pub wouldn't honor any requests for time off in the entire month of March...

Today though, no need to quit the job. Things are good. Had my OB appt today... he told me I was 32 weeks along, which well, awesome. I thought I was only 31. That NEVER happens to me. Somehow they gave me my old due date back? Now it's the 12th? (Which sort of screws up the whole "counting down the pregnancy with episodes of LOST", but hey. Who the hell knows what's going on in that show anyways. Do I really WANT to associate my pregnancy with that malarky? That's right. I said malarky. Wait, am I still in parentheses?)

So. 32 weeks. And they had to move the big chunk on the bottom of the scale over, which is always a low point for me. I've crossed that 150 threshold and then a little more. I've gained 25lbs so far this pregnancy, which ugh. With Fiona I gained like 27 lbs TOTAL. I'm at 25 and I still have 8 weeks to go? Crippity crap. I'm gonna go over 30. Blargh. My mom was so kind to say to me this morning, "oh wow, I think I only went up over 150 with one of the girls." Uhhhhh thanks but SHUT UP ya SKINNY MINNY CHICKEN LEG WOMAN! One of my calves weighs the same as your whole torso, so can it.

Other than that slightly depressing news, things are looking good. Everything is measuring what it should measure and heartbeats are good and strong and all that stuff.

ALSO, the weather has decided to stop being crappy and finally get nice and springy again. Doing a picnic at the playground with friends for lunch today, and tomorrow as well. This weekend its supposed to be sunny and get into the 70s? Yes please. Wearing my flip-flops today and it was only like 45 degrees this morning.

Well. Baby is down for her nap and I have things to do. Enjoy the day!

Happy St. Patrick's Day from my wee Irish lass!

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Cookies

Nate and I started dating a little over 4 years ago. Obviously, we have learned many things about each other since then. He knows that I sometimes chew with my mouth open, I know that he leaves dirty socks EVERYWHERE, he know I like to always have a glass of water at bedtime and I know that he can sometimes soothe a headache by flossing his teeth.

So when I went to order this year's batch of Girl Scout cookies, I confidently ordered a box of my favorites (Samoas), a box of his favorites (Tagalongs), a box of Thin Mints (cause I think that's a law, that you have to), and a box of Trefoils (because they go so well with a nice cup of tea). The cookies got here, hurrah, and I occasionally put a few Tagalongs in with his lunch, while saving the Samoas for myself because I do love them so.

The other night I was at the grocery store, buying some ice cream in celebration of our having a working freezer once again (!) and I saw that Edy's was on sale! And that they had limited edition Girl Scout Cookie flavors! Nate loves limited edition ice cream flavors! Perfect! I grabbed 2 cartons- Samoas and Tagalongs. Our favorites. Raced home all excited, pulled them out of the grocery bag, all "Look, look what I got! Aren't you thrilled??!?!"

A bit later, once the baby was in bed and we went to dish up the ice cream, I was surprised to see Nate opening up the Samoa ice cream first. I was a bit peeved. Here I was, I bought his favorite kind for him, and he doesn't even want to try it? What the hell is that about. So I asked him, "I bought the Tagalong kind especially for you, don't you want that?"

And he says "yeah, but Samoas are my favorite, so I wanted to try this kind first."

???????

Really? If I didn't know what his favorite was, that would be totally understandable. I mean, it's not a requirement to know things like favorite cookie flavor. But I was SO SURE about it. I felt like SUCH an idiot. Here I was, hoarding the Samoas for myself, completely without guilt because hey, I bought him a box of his favorites and I haven't had a single one. Fair is fair. Now I find out that nope. Dead wrong. You think you know someone...

I would also like to report that while I have not yet managed to go grocery shopping, I did go and pick up all our frozen/defrosted/refrozen into solid blocks foods, so we have some options for mealtimes again. And so tonight in keeping with my decision to do better about making dinner, I made dinner. I had a little helper. It was adorable.

Don't worry Gramma, I didn't actually let her take anything out. She just wanted to wear the mitts and walk around the kitchen saying "Hot hot hot" every time I opened the oven.

And Nate- I'm sorry for hogging all the Samoa goodness for the past four years. I'll be sure to put some in your lunch tomorrow.

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